


to face unafraid the plans that we’ve made

by cromarty



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Christmas Cards, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cromarty/pseuds/cromarty
Summary: “David,” Patrick grinds out, at the absolute limit of his patience. “Just stop being such a prima donna and pick a stupid picture, therehasto be at leastonegood one there.”orPatrick and David fight over their Christmas card picture.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 30
Kudos: 233





	to face unafraid the plans that we’ve made

**Author's Note:**

> I had begun, melodramatically, to believe I'd never write again, and then I had to work out in the snow today and got "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" stuck in my head, thought of the title, and very quickly banged this out.
> 
> Thanks to Bea, [Redacted], and Aly for catching my typos.

“Absolutely not!” David says for the seventh time. Patrick can feel himself starting to grind his teeth. Ray, who generously included this photo session as part of the wedding package they’ve already contracted him for since they aren’t doing formal engagement photos, looks like a wilderness photographer, covered in head to toe Canada Goose. Patrick is wearing his real boots, since they’re out of frame, but otherwise was only allowed a slightly dressy wool sweater and one of his usual button downs, the collar of which he is holding closed up under his chin to give himself the illusion of warmth while David disapproves of the shots they’ve taken so far. 

David rounds on him, accusing. “What are you _doing_ with your _face_ in these?! You’re supposed to look cheerful and in love.” 

“David! It’s -2 degrees outside and we have been standing here for an hour, I can’t even _feel_ my face.” Patrick doesn’t know how David is standing it, since he’s usually cold even in the middle of the summer, but maybe he’s being warmed from within by the intensity of his annoying pickiness over the aesthetic of these stupid pictures.

“We wouldn’t still be out here if you could pose correctly. I don’t understand how it’s too much to ask that you stand naturally and smile, in front of our store that you are supposedly proud of and next to me, who you supposedly love.” David crosses his arms and glares at Patrick from behind Ray’s tripod. 

“Gentlemen, some of these shots are quite lovely. Perhaps if we took a short break to allow you to warm up, Patrick wouldn’t look so much like a hostage.” 

David makes a vehement gesture that is clearly supposed to mean _See! Even Ray says it’s your fault!_

“David,” Patrick grinds out, at the absolute limit of his patience. “Just stop being such a prima donna and pick a stupid picture, there _has_ to be at least_ one_ good one there.”  
David starts towards him and draws himself up to launch into a rant. 

“Well…” Ray starts, sounding uncertain.

“Shut up, Ray!” Patrick snaps, and David’s mouth drops open in shock.

“Okay, apparently we’re done for the day, Ray, thank you very much for generously volunteering your time, we’ll be in touch,” David says, not even looking at back at Ray. 

Patrick, ashamed of himself but too annoyed to admit it, turns on his heel and stomps back into the store. Stomping feels appropriate, so once he’s knocked the snow off his boots he stomps to the back to get his parka and hat and then stomps around the store turning off lights. David comes in and gets his own coat and stands quietly by the door waiting for Patrick to be ready to leave. He’s quiet on the drive back to the apartment as well, letting Patrick stew in his own annoyance at David’s fussiness and Ray’s cheerfulness and his own rudeness. David takes the slow and creaky elevator, but Patrick stomps his way up the stairs, heedless of the neighbors. Once they’re inside and Patrick’s sitting on a kitchen chair to unlace his boots, David finally speaks.

“Okay, what is going on with you? You’ve been cranky all day and I have _never_ heard you be rude to Ray.” He’s crossed his arms again, his mouth twisted up in annoyance, and it just irritates Patrick further.

“What’s going on with _me_? What’s going on with _you_?! You’re particular, David, I know that, but this was ridiculous. You spent all morning giving me a hard time about every piece of clothing I own even though you’ve seen them all and even _given_ me some of them, and then you made us pose in like 8 different places before finally deciding we absolutely _had_ to stand outside on a freezing cold day without coats on forever, while you criticized every face I made!”

“Well excuse me for caring what our first Christmas card-_slash_-engagement announcement-_slash_-save the date looks like, I didn’t realize you’re so ashamed of me you were going to be such a _baby_ about taking one!” David throws his hands up in the air.

Patrick, having stripped off all his outerwear finally, stands and gestures dramatically at his body. “Well, I’m sorry for ruining the patented David Rose Aesthetic! I’m taking a shower, I’m still freezing.” And because it’s the only door in the entire apartment and he’s feeling like he wants to break something, he slams the bathroom door, shutting out David’s scowling face.

As the shower warms him up and starts to relax his tense neck and jaw muscles, Patrick starts to calm down. It’s not often he and David fight like this. They’re usually better at not winding each other up. He thinks about what David has just said. Patrick’s _not_ ashamed of David. Patrick is excited about showing David off to the world pretty much always. _Look who chose me_, he thinks to himself when they’re in Elmdale holding hands over the table at the pizzeria or pushing a cart side by side in the grocery store. David is right, though. Patrick woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. This picture, this Christmas card, has been making him antsy for weeks, ever since David suggested asking Ray to take it. He stands under the hot spray and thinks about why, worrying the problem over in his head, long enough that the water starts to go cold. He turns off the shower and is surprised by a knock on the door while he’s drying himself off. The door opens and David’s hand sticks through the gap, holding a pair of David’s cashmere pajama pants, some thick socks, and Patrick’s favorite sleep shirt and [1993 World Series champion Blue Jays](https://ibb.co/JjDFLpD) sweatshirt. 

“Thank you, David,” Patrick says quietly, touched almost as much by the fact that David is trying not to let the steamy heat out of the bathroom as by the pajamas he’s holding. 

When he’s bundled up in David’s perfect idea of comfort, he emerges ready to apologize. David looks up at him from the couch where he’s curled up under a blanket. He’s been busy while Patrick took his time out, and the apartment is warm, the lights are low, the Christmas lights are on, and there’s a still-steaming cup of tea on the coffee table. Patrick feels his own face crumple at the sight of all the ways David has taken care of him while he calmed himself down from his stupid little tantrum. He goes straight to the couch and curls himself into David, wrapping his arms around David’s neck and tucking his face in David’s throat. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk today, David,” he whispers. David’s hand comes up to cup the back of Patrick’s neck, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m not ashamed of you. I’m proud that we’re together. Being with you, building our life together, is the thing I’m proudest of in my whole life.”

“I was just trying to make the picture perfect,” David whispers. “Your whole family is going to see this, everyone from your old life. I don’t want them to think you made a mistake in choosing me.”

“I’m not worried about that, David. I did get scared, though. I don’t want to send this out and have someone, anyone, think they’re allowed to tell me they think I shouldn’t have left my old life. I don’t want someone to say something about ‘the new Patrick’ like I’m a different person now. This is the person I always have been.”

David kisses Patrick’s temple. “So we both got scared and both handled it badly, how completely unusual for us,” he jokes gently. 

“Oh god, I have to apologize to Ray,” Patrick groans.

“Drink your tea, you can call him after dinner. I’m sure you’re not the first person to snap at him, and if he was that wounded by it he wouldn’t still be so chatty,” David says, picking up his book and settling in. 

Patrick kisses his cheek and stands to light the fireplace candles and heat up last night’s lasagna. When he glances back over at David, in a cozy cashmere sweater he reserves for nights at home, wrapped in a blanket from their store, glowing in the light of the fireplace, he’s arrested by the sight of his beautiful life. He shifts slightly, calculating angles, and then picks up his discarded sweater from the kitchen chair and strips out of his sweatshirt. 

“What are you doing?” David asks. 

“Don’t move, just sit up a little.” Patrick sets the timer on his phone camera and props it on the right side of the mantle. He sits down next to David and snuggles into his right side just in time. David, so highly trained as to be instinctive, smiles at exactly the right moment. Patrick bounces up to check and grins. The picture is just slightly crooked, but it captures their tiny Christmas tree on the kitchen table, and the two of them, cozy and smiling gently, curled in together on Patrick’s couch, a perfect puzzle piece fit. He hands his phone to David.

“This is it, this should be our Christmas card.”

David looks down at the photo and his whole face softens. “It’s perfect,” he whispers.

Patrick leans down to kiss him and lets himself get lost in it for a long moment. The lasagna and his wet boots and his cooling tea and Ray can all wait. Patrick, new Patrick, old Patrick, every Patrick, is exactly where he should be.


End file.
